


Happiness

by Valmouth



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-05-14
Packaged: 2017-12-11 20:34:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valmouth/pseuds/Valmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another murder solved, another clever conversation had. They’d pressed all the right buttons in all the right ways to finally make sense of the chaos and now everybody was going to live happily ever after with only a small amount of counselling necessary in the immediate aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer : I own no rights to these two characters or to the TV show they are derived from. I mean no offence by posting this and make no money from it.
> 
> A/N : Obviously disregarding Series 7. Obviously.

"She’s nice,” Lewis said, nodding appreciatively after their latest witness sashaying away with a swish of her curvy hips.

“Hm,” Hathaway said non-committally, and turned away.

“She was checking you out, you know. Might have a promise there if you gave her a call.”

“The last time you pushed me into a woman’s arms, I ended up back on the street an hour later feeling cheap and used.” Hathaway paused. “Actually, now I think of it, you paid me to go in so I suppose that also counts as prostitution.”

“Shut up, Hathaway.”

“Doesn’t tell me who my pimp is, though. Sir?”

“Don’t look at me,” Lewis sniffed, “If I had to be a pimp, I’d choose someone who wouldn’t talk back once in a while.”

“You like your boys submissive clearly.”

“It’s talk like that that gets me in trouble with the Chief Super.”

Hathaway cracked a smile. “If you pay me enough, I could possibly smooth that over.”

“With my dead body,” Lewis agreed dryly, “Come on. Let’s get back to our paperwork.”

And they’d loped off. Without a care in the world. Another murder solved, another clever conversation had. They’d pressed all the right buttons in all the right ways to finally make sense of the chaos and now everybody was going to live happily ever after with only a small amount of counselling necessary in the immediate aftermath.

They’d even escaped without being yelled at, shot at, poisoned, insulted, stabbed, buried alive, burned alive, demoted, ruined, rejected, heartbroken, or ending up with black eyes, concussions, split lips, bad backs, fractures, PTSD, or anything remotely resembling consequences either physical, mental or emotional.

Hathaway, usually prone to looking clinically depressed because they  _hadn’t been quick enough_ , was in a chipper mood. Enough so that he engaged Hooper in idiotic banter.

Hooper wasn’t best pleased, since he almost always lost in their battle of wits, but Lewis kept an eye out to make sure Hathaway didn’t go too far. Even Hathaway couldn’t get away with complete murder.

But everything seemed to be going well. Lewis was pleased. Hathaway was pleased. More importantly, Innocent was pleased.

They went out for a drink together, him and Hathaway. And in the end, for all their defences, that was all it took.

They weren’t even tipsy but it was a nice night, and Lewis decided that he was going to walk by the river. Hathaway decided that he would join him.

The moon was out, there were actual stars somewhere struggling vainly to be seen, and the muggy, stifling heat of the day had cooled somewhat, to everybody’s relief. If they hadn’t been talking about their respective lack of a romantic life earlier in the day, they were certainly confronted with it by the river when they almost walked into a kissing couple.

They kindly walked around them, since the couple was far too busy to take any notice of two off-duty and pleasantly relaxed policemen.

“It’s nice to know that sex is still happening to someone,” Hathaway said ironically.

“I know what you mean,” Lewis sighed.

He glanced sideways and caught the curious frown Hathaway tossed him.

“Laura and I,” Lewis said plainly, “Did not work out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too. But it was the companionship I wanted with her, not the... you know.”

“Sex?”

“That.”

“And Doctor Hobson? Is she okay?”

“She says she is. And she knows best.”

“I never had you pegged for a lothario, sir. Hobson, Ann Kriel, that other woman- the one who tried to sue us because you intimidated her son? What was her name?”

“Thank you, Sergeant. I’ll remember that when it’s your annual review. And her name was Stephanie Fielding. She was lovely. Except her son was weird.”

“That he was.”

“Anyway, what about you? No nice girl in the offing, then?”

“Nope. I’m beginning to think seriously of public phone booths.”

Lewis sniggered, thinking of his reserved Sergeant glancing through the lurid ads in public telephone boxes for a suitable candidate. Though, when he came to think of it, if anyone could get away with it with perfect composure it would be Hathaway.

“Don’t young people go clubbing or something?”

“Ah, but I am getting on a bit, sir.”

“Feeling your old age?”

“One of my back teeth is wobbling slightly.”

“Aye. Your hair will be falling out next. Then there’s wrinkles, and bits sagging, and then it’s off to a home for you, lad, where there’s soft food and bingo on Fridays.”

He enjoyed the soft snort of amusement from his left, and the way that Hathaway looked as if he didn’t particularly care, not when the night was so fine and the river threw back sparks from the distant lights of the buildings.

“I don’t think I can imagine either of us playing bingo.”

“I quite like bingo myself. Used to play it with the kids when they were little. To teach them numbers, you know.”

“My mother used to play scrabble with me,” Hathaway said unexpectedly.

And Lewis, who had yet to hear Hathaway say more than ‘family commitment’ once in the past five years, was suitably intrigued enough to say, “Do you keep in touch with ‘em?”

“My parents? We email each other every couple of weeks. Why?”

“You never talk about them.”

“Nothing much to say.”

Lewis shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Hathaway asked, sounding amused but slightly defensive.

“I don’t know anything about you,” Lewis pointed out.

Hathaway’s brows lifted slightly. “I find that hard to believe.”

 “No, it’s true. I know you rowed for Cambridge and such like, but nothing really about  _you_.”

“You must have read my file.”

“’Course. Where you went to school, your mother’s maiden name- all facts but no information. I mean, where are your folks now? Do they ever come to Oxford?”

“Why all the sudden interest?”

“I find you very intriguing, Sergeant.”

“Really.”

“Yup. And I like to know what kind of man I walk by the river with.” 

“This doesn’t have anything to do with your dubious payments to Sergeants to have sex with women, I hope.”

“I didn’t pay you to have sex with Fiona, man. I was just... pushing you along.”

“Bribing me at the very least,” Hathaway insisted.

“With twenty pounds?”

“Minus the ten I gave back.”

“You’re good value for money, then. Never knew a hooker give change before.”

“Go often, do you? Special member rates?”

Lewis grinned. “Some kind of member anyway. You’d be surprised, lad.”

“With you, sir, always.”

“Are you flirting with me, Hathaway?”

“Only temporarily.”

“Well, stop. That man who just walked past us thinks we’re both nuts.”

“It doesn't matter what you do in the bedroom as long as you don't do it in the street and frighten the horses,” Hathaway declaimed, arms thrown wide and pausing to turn in a slow circle.

Lewis grabbed his elbow and yanked him onwards.

“Stop that,” he hissed, “Bloody fool.”

“Oh come on, Robbie, the night at least is young, we’re alive, and nobody is calling us to go and look at dead bodies.”

Hathaway was suddenly much closer than Lewis had expected him to be, head tilted down and a strange gleam in his eyes, half-excitement, half-intent, mouth soft and slightly parted and his voice dropped to something thick and syrupy that slithered into Lewis’s bloodstream and made the whole world seem a lot warmer than it had been five minutes ago.

And Lewis thought, ‘he’s going to kiss me’. Which, once the words appeared, didn’t seem such a bad idea in the circumstances.

He didn’t get much of a chance to think about it after that.

Hathaway’s mouth came down, and Lewis tilted his head up, and if Hathaway’s hand did come around to gently cradle the back of his head, well, Lewis didn’t see any reason to complain. He concentrated on reaching up to cup Hathaway’s jaw, trying to bring the kiss from messy and wet and unbearably energetic to something a little safer for a public place.

Hathaway was fighting him a bit about that.

Which, interestingly, was fun. In a strange way.

By the time they broke apart to catch their breath, Lewis had lost track of who’d been getting the upper hand.

Hathaway dropped his head down to rest on Lewis’s shoulder and Lewis let his hand slide around the back of Hathaway’s neck. He could feel the tendons and muscle flex beneath his fingertips.

“Should I be apologising?” Hathaway murmured.

“Should I?” Lewis countered.

“Only if you plan to pay me.”

“Well, I did buy you a pint,” Lewis said.

He felt Hathaway laugh more than he heard him, and then Hathaway lifted his head and he was still smiling, his eyes still bright and guiltless. “I’m not  _that_  cheap,” Hathaway said.

“I’ve got a bottle of wine at my flat. Or does that count as bribery?”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have to pay back, of course.”

“Of course.”

“With enthusiasm.”

Lewis was close enough to see exactly how Hathaway’s mouth formed those words.

“You’re not freaking out, sir.”

“James, I’ll only freak out if you call me ‘sir’ in bed.”

He thought he saw Hathaway’s breath actually hitch.

“Promises, promises,” Hathaway said with a shaky laugh.

Lewis let him go, though not too far, and jerked his head back the way they’d come. “The cars are back that way.”

“I’ll race you,” Hathaway said irreverently.

“And give me a heart attack?”

“Oh, I plan to do that later,” Hathaway assured him mischievously, and wound a long arm around his shoulders.  
 


End file.
